Posted in life, Poetry


I’ve been hiding myself in the days,

watching them slide past

like the scenery on a road trip…

Burying myself in work,

busying my mind every way possible.

Cautiously numb…

Getting lost in music

and wayward thoughts

is too much a pastime now,

pretending that all is well

carrying on like life didn’t just


Wishing you were still here

[While] still refusing to acknowledge

that you’re actually not anymore;

All to avoid the deep and lancing blows

of sorrow’s jackknife

and the chunks losing you

cut from me.

I have these gaping holes

in my spirit and memory

and the vague yet poignant sense that

nothing is normal anymore.


I spend my days chasing sameness

not wanting to face the change truth brings

or admit how much

I miss you already.